Twisted Mirror
by TheMysteriousGeek2345
Summary: "When you look into the abyss, the abyss looks into you." Nietzsche. An alternate viewpoint of many of the main characters in Criminal Minds. No Maeve, Henry, Blake, Cruz or Seaver for many reasons. Full explanation and warnings inside.
1. Premise

**Premise**

**As per always, CBS owns CM, not I, sadly. Though I do own two Criminal Minds DVDs! :) I also own: Maria, Frankie, Anthony, Edmund, Samuel and a receptionist. :)**

**So, if you've read the summary, or my profile page, well... you might know some of what is going on, but not all of it. This idea is based on a semi idea I had a while ago, and I just wanted to flesh it out and such. I have seen some fanfics that do similar things, but not with the whole team.**

**Oh, wait, I am sounding all mysterious like. Sorry. It is part of my username after all! I won't explain what the hell is going on, but hopefully you'll understand once you read this.**

**So, this is just the Premise, so I won't be getting into too great depths yet- just a normal day and such. More exploration will come if you want more. Currently got *deep breath* Garcia, Kevin, Hotch, Reid, Rossi, Strauss, Gideon, Elle, Morgan, Emily, and JJ with their own POVs (except Kevin, he's with Garcia). I might do Blake and Cruz later, coz any more POVs, and it might get confusing. Plus, don't know Cruz yet. And I have special plans for Seaver...**

**Also, this is unbetaed, so if there are any errors, I apologise. Time skips will feature heavily in this.**

**Warning: OOCness, drugs, Slash (and implied sex), Violent Death, Child Abuse, The idea that crime could be promoted as a "good thing" (It's not, btw), characters in situations you won't be happy with, and general violence.**

**Edit: Due to an inconsistency between Hotch's back story and Hotch's POV in this. In return for the small error, I will confirm that Hotch did kill Reid's dad in this, as well as his own father and Haley. Yes, Hotch is a serial killer.**

* * *

_15th March 2014_

_5:14am_

Garcia always enjoyed their arrangement.

Reid was curled up in the bed, his arms wrapped around his boyfriend, as Garcia watched quietly through the webcam. They were asleep now, but earlier that night was some pretty steamy bedtime sessions. In return for being allowed to watch this, Garcia would look up (i.e. discover via hacking) potential clients for Reid.

After all, Reid needed to make the money in order to make ends meet. Especially after she discovered that the boyfriend, Hotch, was being blackmailed, by the head of the mafia (Reid suspected that Hotch was being blackmailed, but did not know for certain). Why, she did not know. She just hacked into the bank system and discovered that Hotch was paying up to $20,000 a year in order to keep _something_ secret.

Meanwhile, she and Kevin were busy themselves, hacking into different government systems, finding valuable (and often shocking) pieces of information, which they later sold to the media under false names.

Kevin was out at them moment, doing the grocery shopping. Garcia got out of the webcam feed, and read through the latest information that she had discovered ("Oooooh!" She thought when she got to the information about an affair going on between an actor and a musician. The actor's wife would not be best pleased, but the media would lap this up and publish it, meaning more money for her!)

Just then, she heard the door open, and Kevin walked into the room.

"Hey, Plum sauce." He muttered warmly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, "Which paper do we sell this too?"

"I was thinking the daily view." Garcia smiled, "Best rates, published quickly and a lot of people read it. This'll be good."

Kevin nodded, "Indeed, just send the pictures, financial details and everything else over to them. They won't be able to trace us, as our defences are that good. We've never been caught before."

Garcia rubbed her hands with exitement. Then, she typed in the email address to the Daily view, before offering information about the actor, Adam in return for money.

Barely half an hour later, the Daily view had written back, offering over $50,000 in return for the information, and Garcia happily sent it over. Five minutes later, the money was in their (joint) fake account.

Brilliant! Now they had more money to spend on designer clothes, artwork and Buffy the Vampire DVDs. Life was Bliss.

* * *

_8:02am_

Meanwhile, Strauss was reading through the documentation of "Anna Green", in reality a girl named Maria Mocanu, an illegal immigrant trying to find her way into the US by going through the UK first.

Once here, theoretically she would be getting a job and starting up a new life. In reality, it would be much more grim. She would probably end up as a prostitute on the street, being abused by the people who should be caring for her. She'd probably get pregnant young, and may catch a STD, and die a couple of years later.

But, Strauss didn't really care. There was plenty of good money in the human trafficking industry- the industry made $32 billion dollars a year in international trade, and after her messy divorce, where she lost custody of her children and her husband won most of the family wealth, she needed to pay off her debts.

Her phone rang, and Strauss picked it up and looked at it.

David Rossi calling.

She loved him once- she had just graduated from college, he had just returned from the marines. But when she discovered that he was cheating on her, the relationship was called off.

She looked down at the text, and saw that Rossi was asking if she could forge a death certificate- another member of the mafia had had a 'heart attack' when, in reality, he had been murdered. Strauss did not want to know, but she could see that it might make more money to pay off her debts.

She sent a text back, stating that she would be willing to do so, before she deleted the text (she did not want to risk anyone seeing her phone and work out she was a forger) before sitting back at her desk, continuing to forge the documents that would help pay off her debts.

* * *

_10:04am_

Jason Gideon stared blankly at the wall, ignoring the empty plate, as the door opened and the guard marched in. Gideon knew why he was here, why the guard would finally free him from the mindless existence.

"Prisioner Jason Gideon, have you finished your last meal?" The guard asked, "Because it's time."

Gideon gave a slight nod, and stood up, letting the guard walk him out of his cell. Today was deathday, the day when the concaution of drugs would be injected into his body, giving him a quick, and hopefully peaceful death.

Memories flashed through his mind. Blood, lifeless expressionless eyes, the blood soaked weapon. The faces of the 12 people he killed, the face of the woman he loved, and his colleagues at the BAU. All gone.

He did not feel remorse, or regret. It was only fair after what had happened to him and how he world had robbed him of Sarah.

As he walked through death row, he saw the faces of the other inmates, stating at him through the bars... He saw one guy, who had been there for the past 10 years. Gideon in fact had put him in there. 7 years later, Gideon himself entered death row. But due to Gideon not appealing, whereas the other inmate did multiple times, Gideon was hoping to be executed first.

Finally, they had arrived at the chamber, and Gideon smirked at the family members of those Gideon killed. They deserved it. All of it. They should not be happy while he was suffering.

He blanked out everything, ignoring everyone, as he sat on the table. Finally, he could feel a needle being injected, and slowly but surely, everything began to fade.

Several minutes later, he was dead.

* * *

_10:12pm_

Elle glanced down at the corpse, staring long and hard at the head shot wound, blood slowly trickling out of it.

He was a bad, bad person. A monster. The example of Evil. A serial rapist, who went around, forcing woman who were much older (he was only _twelve_, for crying out loud!) to have sex with him. And if they didn't... He would severely injure! Or in one case kill them.

It had taken a while, but she had caught him in the act, trying to rape a twenty four year old woman, who had tried to fight him off. He was just pulling down the woman's skirt when Elle came across the scene.

She fought him off, letting the other woman escape, before shooting him twice- firstly in the crotch, then the head. And now, all she had to do was clean up the crime scene, and hope that the woman could not remember what her saviour looked like (and it was pretty unlikely, due to the weapon focus effect).

She firstly stripped the body of clothes, so that the amount of her DNA found would be much smaller, before taking the bullets out of the two wounds, and stuffing the body in a dumpster.

Elle then walked away, back to where she had parked her motorbike (in a security camera free area. After all, if she _did_ find a criminal to kill, then the police could trace her journey home through CCTV).

After a quick drive, she was home. She took off her gloves, and along with all the other items of clothing, burnt them in the fireplace. She then washed the bullets, to get rid of the blood, before throwing them into the gutter.

Finally, she stood in the shower, and watched as she finally cleaned herself of her victim's DNA.

Tomorrow, this would be all over the news- "12 year old rapist shot in the balls" - and she'd be a work as a cop, following in her own father's footsteps, with no evidence to even link her to the crime.

No one at work ever suspected that she was more than just a hard working cop, who was also a loner. She didn't mind, she was better working alone. At least errors were only made by herself, and not by someone else cocking up.

And she was so thorough in checking and double checking that she was over 9000% sure that she would get away with it.

* * *

_6:06pm_

Hotch stared at the wall. He had a case to prepare for the day after tomorrow, and Reid was busy refining cocaine to sell. He quickly looked down at the letter the Mafia sent, demanding more money to keep the three murders he had committed quiet.

It was bad luck, bad timing and just unfortunate that the head of the mafia was also involved in the selling of TTX. It was unfortunate that the head of the mafia did his own investigation and put two and two together (I.e, Haley's death and the symptoms of TTX poisoning, as well as his own father's death when he was 16 years old. And then there was Reid's father's mysterious death...). The only good thing was that Rossi did not go straight to the police.

Instead, Hotch had to stuff his mouth with money in order to keep him quiet.

He could not tell Reid. Reid already had his own problems, what with members of his drug cartel getting arrested for possessing drugs (luckily not Reid. Yet. Then, not only would Reid get arrested, but Hotch could lose his job, or even get arrested himself.) as well as his addiction and his own nightmares about that case. The case where they first met.

Soon, he decided that he needed to do something to calm himself down, so he walked down to the cellar, where Jack was busy doing homework. Jack saw him come in. He watched Jack tense up with fear. Jack knew what was going to happen next.

Hotch got out a small block of wood, and began to hit Jack's feet with it, causing tears to slowly fall from Jack's eyes. He reminded Hotch too much of Haley. The woman who cheated on him, and abandoned him for someone else. If he could not have her, no one could.

"Please...daddy...stop!" Jack wailed.

Hotch muttered angrily "Don't you dare show weakness, you fool! Don't you realise that showing weakness is more likely to make you a victim?"

"But daddy..." Jack trailed off.

"Be quiet!" Hotch yelled, "I am trying to toughen you up, and if you complain, I'll hurt you more!"

Jack slowly began to quieten down, and Hotch finally calmed down. Hotch walked upstairs, leaving Jack to do his homework, whilst he looked for Reid.

He saw Reid, sitting down at his desk, in deep concentration. In front of him was some refined cocaine, ready to sell tomorrow.

"How was your day at the lab, Reid?" Hotch smiled.

Reid replied, "It was excellent, and we've finally worked out how to lessen the impact of genetic illnesses and traits caused by a faulty number two chromosome, such as... Sorry, I am rambling again, aren't I?"

"You are, but I don't mind, it sounds really interesting." Hotch smiled. "I wish my day was as good as yours. Got a case to prepare for the day after tomorrow, and it's not a nice one. A twenty four year old man was ripped to shreads outside of town, and we found the prime suspect, called Frankie Jones, aged 32. Hopefully she'll be found guilty and be moved to death row. Also, did you hear that Jason Gideon was executed earlier today? I remember working with him. He consoluted on a couple of my cases, and helped me find them guilty."

"That case sounds horrible, and I also hope Frankie is found guilty. And I read about Gideon's death on the news, and one of my colleagues is related to one of the victims, so she was busy celebrating." Reid muttered, before kissing Hotch, "I love you."

"Love you too." Hotch smiled, "So, what are you producing there?"

"PMA, one of my dealers has reported an increase in people taking PMA, so I have decided to try and get myself into the market." Reid muttered.

Hotch nodded, and watched as his lover carried on making the drugs, which would hopefully lead to money needed to pay off the Mafia next month.

* * *

_12:22pm_

Emily Prentiss quietly sat down at her desk, reading through highly sensitive files, while waiting for the day to end, so she could go home. One boring Government document after another...

When she saw the next document, she stopped. Oh...My... This was a Government atrocity! What they were doing was wrong! The people needed to know, the world needed to know what dark secret the US Government were hiding this time. She had to leak the document.

She was not planning to do it for the money. She would plan to do it because the people deserved to know what was really going on in wars, politics and other such matters. Just like Assange argued when he realeased reports about what was going on in Afghanistan, and other such noble whistleblowers.

Emily discreetly got out her notebook, and jotted down notes on the document in question- She wasn't allowed to remove the document from the building- before secretly getting out her phone and taking pictures. She was so damned well lucky that her desk was not in the viewpoint of a CCTV camera- otherwise she would not be allowed to do this.

Hopefully, by tonight, this would all be printed off and sent to the nearest newspaper. Then, tomorrow, the news would be broken, and everything would be good. She could not wait to have the scandal brought to the front of public thought, and the Government to stop what it was doing.

_8:31pm_

Emily had left work barely minutes ago, and she was quickly printing off the images from her phone (two copies of the sets of images.), as well as photocoping her own notes. She had also got directions for the nearest embassy. So, all she had to do was go to the nearest newsprinting firm, discreetly hand over one set of pictures before heading to the embassy and requesting asylum, before giving them the other sect of images.

She got into the car, and drove quickly towards the newspaper firm. When she got there, she ran towards the receptionist's desk, leaving the photocopied notes and the images for her to find and report, before leaving as quickly as she came.

There was no turning back.

And finally, she was at the embassy. Hopefully, they would not turn her over to the US Government, otherwise there would be a long jail sentence in front of her.

Emily breathed in and out, before walking in. This was it. After tonight, she'd either be here, cooped in the building, or outside, and in danger of being arrested.

"Bonjour." The Receptionist smiled warmly.

Emily breathed in and out, " Bonjour, mademoiselle. S'il vous plaît, puis-je demander l'asile en échange de ces documents gouvernementaux hautement confidentiels? "** (Hello, Miss. Please can I request Asylum in return for these highly confidential Government Documents?)**

She handed over the documents, and watched as the receptionist's face grew dark. The receptionist left Emily, trying to find someone to discuss the matter with, leaving Emily apprehensive over if she would be safe or not.

* * *

_3:59am_

"I'm here." Morgan muttered quietly down the phone to his employer, David Rossi. Rossi had ordered a hit three weeks prior, asking if Morgan could be so kind as to murder another member of the mafia in his sleep.

And now, Morgan was here, quietly observed the nice suburban house, and ran through the details and the plan. Anthony Donatelli, a thirty three year old mafia member with aims to make it to the top. Not on Morgan's watch. He had to make sure that instead of making it to the top, he would be buried six feet under.

Morgan had decided on the best point of entry- the downstairs bathroom window. He also found out (by contacting a hacker named Penelope Garcia) that the next door neighbours were out for the weekend, visiting family in Alaska.

He quickly put on his leather gloves, before quietly braking the window, and slowly clambering in, before heading to the upstairs bedroom, where Anthony was sleeping alone. Morgan also knew that Rossi was planning a meeting with Anthony at 8am that day. Rossi would do in, find Donatelli dead, call a forger to forge the death certificate, and Morgan would be given a nice lump of cash.

Morgan grabbed the pillow, before pressing it to Donatelli's face. Smith woke up and began to struggle, trying to free himself so he could call 911/ But Anthony was nowhere near as strong as Morgan.

Five minutes later, he was dead.

Morgan removed the pillow, and placed it back where he had found it, before he opened up his phone again.

"Hello, Morgan." Rossi muttered, "Have you performed the Hit?"

Morgan replied, "Yes, though you might need to repair the downstairs bathroom window, as I had to break it to get in. Otherwise, foul play might be brought up, and then you might be suspected for ordering a hit."

"Ok, thank you for the warning." Rossi frowned, "I'll get one of my Goons to replace the window when I come to meet him. I'll give you the money in a week' time. Goodbye."

Rossi ended the call, and Morgan closed up his phone. Then he quickly walked back to his car, and drove away, leaving Rossi to find the corpse in the morning.

* * *

_7:09am _

_51 Minutes to go._

Rossi sat quietly in his office, running through the many different protection, blackmail, and arms dealing documents, watching the clock. He knew he had to meet the cor... Anthony Donatelli in less than a hour's time.

He could not believe the cheek of that man. Trying to replace Rossi as head of the mafia? How dare he! He should have known that trying to take power from the head honcho, to double cross Rossi could only end in one death... and it was that of the betrayer, not the betrayed.

That man was dead now. The rebellious bird killed before it could stretch its wings and fly.

Meanwhile, he also had a late payment. John had not managed to pay his protection money, and so, he also needed to be taught a lesson. Probably he'll be beaten and his shop set on fire. He needed to find a couple of goons willing to do that job. Maybe his nephew would like to do it, he thought quietly to himself, as he decided that that would be what happened.

_40 Minutes to go._

He had summoned his nephew to his office a couple of minutes prior, and when the nephew finally arrived, he smiled.

"Yes Uncle Dave. What is it that you want me to do?" Edmund Rossi asked eagerly, probably because this was one of his first jobs in the mafia.

"There is a man who hasn't payed his protection money this month, called John Smith. He runs the botique next to the Walmart. Please can you beat him up and set fire to the boutique? He needs to learn that not paying us is a bad idea?" Rossi asked, in a manner that suggested that saying no was a bad idea.

"Yes Uncle Dave. Shall I do it now? I can get a tank of petrol and a match, as well as a whip." Edmund smiled, "I can get there in about 15 minutes, and then you'll have someone who has learnt his lesson."

Rossi paused for a moment. His nephew really was keen on being loyal and helping the mafia. A good ally for the future, perhaps? Maybe a successor when his uncle dies?

"If it pleases you, you can do it now." Rossi smiled, watching his over eager nephew leave.

That was indeed a good choice.

_29 Minutes to go._

Rossi by now had sorted out and contacted all the people who needed contacting (Including a murderer or serial killer (depending on if the death of William Reid was down to him or not) and child abuser Aaron Hotchner) about this month's payments, each one being worth on average about $8,000.

He left the office, and walked down towards his car. His chaffeur, Samuel Petrelli, was waiting for him, the replacement window ready to hide evidence of fould play. All he had to do now was "discover" the body, when he in fact ordered it to be there.

After both of them got into the car they began to drive towards their destination. Rossi sat in silence, before calling another member of the mafia, who worked at the morgue, who would collect the forged death certificate, and that would be it. Yes, there might be a family member who might challenge it, but they had no proof that it was murder. None at all.

Finally they were there, and Rossi knocked on the door, and when he heard nothing, he got the spare key from under the flower pot. He walked in, whilst Samuel quickly replaced the window.

Rossi walked up to the bedroom, and found Anthony lying in bed. Rossi touched the cold corpse, and felt nothing. No signs of life.

And another threat had been eliminated.

* * *

_5:02pm_

JJ was waiting by the window, stalking her prey. The man of her dreams was currently sitting by the TV, watching "Days of Our Lives", with a can of beer and a pizza by his side.

She had been following him for some time now, almost six months since they first met. He did not realise yet. Will LaMontagnue did not realise that he was being watched wherever he went.

He would be watching TV now until 6, when he would be going out to his kickboxing club, which ended at 7:30pm. After that, he would be heading to the police station, to do a late night shift. That ended at 10pm. After that, he would come home, brush his teeth, undress and get into bed.

Yes, she knew what he did every. Single. Second. Of every single day.

She watched his phone go off, and he went and picked it up. Probably a call from his father, a retired police officer. Or maybe his mother, or another colleague. After all, he had been on duty more recently with another female officer (whose name was... Greenaway? It was the only officer in the precinct she could find who looked like the officer she had seen). No romantic intrest whatsoever... After all, Will was hers, not Greenaway's.

JJ put down her binoculars, and got out a small laptop. She watched as the phone conversation was brought up on screen (She had bugged his phone when he was at the kickboxing). It was his father. They were talking about the Vigilante who was going around the city. They were not closer to finding out the truth of who he (or she) was..

Then the conversation turned to more family matters- Will's mother was recovering from a recent bout of flu, and was looking foward to seeing them again. JJ looked at the clock. She had to leave. Now. Otherwise, Will would see her and suspect that she was stalking him.

She quickly stuffed everything into her bag, before heading down the street to her car, and quickly driving away, reminising about the first time they met.

It was at the bank, a cold September Morn. JJ was there, sorting stuff out about her mother's inheritence (she had died a week before). As she walked out of the building, she saw Will walk in, who was paying in his monthly salary.

And that was it. She was in love.

Though it did take her about a week or two to discover who her knight in shining amour was. There was a bank robbery, and Will had managed to stop the thieves and diffuse the situation. When she saw his face in the paper, she knew then that they were destined to be together.

And soon, they will (pardon the choice of words) be. He just didn't realise that they were meant to be together yet.

* * *

_4:09pm_

Reid had returned home from a stressful day at the chemistry labs, with several chemicals hidden in his bag. With him was Jack, his adopted son, who he absolutly adored. Yes, he knew that his partner beat him up. Yes, he knew that there were men who came to the house, who spent a lot of time with Jack. He knew that whatever happened in those sessions wasn't normal playing with Jack, helping him with homework or other such stuff.

But he tried to stop Hotch from doing this, and Hotch had yelled at him. He still had the scars from that incident. Reid knew how deadly Hotch could be when he was angry.

Yet, Reid could not leave, as he loved Hotch too much. Plus, if he did leave, then Hotch would reveal Reid's criminal activities, so Reid would be forced to voice his suspicions about Hotch...

After dumping the chemicals in the lab, he went in Jack's homework, eager to help his son with the homework that had been set today. It was some simple math homework, which Jack whizzed through with little assistance, and some science homework, which was harder, but he did it.

When this was done, Reid headed up to his lab, and concentrated on making PMA- he had done some statistical studies, and more and more people were becoming addicted to PMA. If he tapped into the market, he was set for life, and not only that he could buy the dilaudid he craved from a friendly dealer. He needed that next fix.

He looked into his bag, and saw the needle, filled with the nectar of the gods. The sweet, sweet drug was beckoning him, pleading him to bring it to his arm, and inject it. However, he tried to ignore it, focusing more on producing the PMA that was going to make his company wealthy.

His mind wondered, and his thoughts settled on Jason Gideon. Hotch had told him about the man when they had first began dating nearly three years ago. It was after the case where he was tortured, nearly killed by one of he most insane people who had ever lived. Hotch was the prosecutor in the trial that followed, and thanks to him, he was in death row for life (Or what was left of it. Which wasn't much, as he'd died today)

Reid though, was brought back by the contents in the beaker bubbling over, the light pink fluid nearly spilling over.. The first batch was nearly done. He just had to wait for it to set, and then it would be on the streets tomorrow night.

He took the beaker away from the bunsen burner, and set back to work.

* * *

**So, that's the premise. Yes, they're all unsubs. Yes, some of them know each other, in their own weird ways. But, heck, I have seen the idea before, but not many. And I know some of this is unlikely to occur in real life, but I have tried to make it as realistic as possible.**

**If you do want more, I'll probably start with how all of them came to be unsubs not BAU members, except Prentiss and Strauss. I think it is obvious in that small section how they came to be unsubs. After that... Other one shots based on what you want to read? And if you do want Blake and Cruz, I will do them. :)**

**And finally, I did try to make it so that the crime each one is performing does relate to their character on the actual show. JJ and Prentiss were the hardest to write, Garcia and Reid the easiest. **

**Thank you for reading. :)**


	2. When History Repeats Itself

**Well, after the surprising success of the first in the Twisted Mirror saga, I am bringing the next one into the world! :) **

**So, why is it called the Twisted Mirror series? Well, it's a warped, twisted reflection on the various different CM characters. It seemed to fit. :) Most of them were easy to write the first time... Except Emily's and JJ's, as I couldn't think of a crime to suit them... That's why their's was terrible. :( **

**Anyways, this is a character focus on Hotch, and his descent into Darkness. I hope you enjoy it! :D Also, I aged Sean up by a couple of years ( 8 years to be precise) because there are some interactions in this story that would be harder to perform if Sean was younger.**

**Warnings: OOCness, Child Abuse (a bit of), self harm, Death, Maybe some graphic scenes. Triggers to anyone who has suffered any of this. Also, maybe one small inaccuracy? No sure about driving ages in US, so had a guess. If I'm wrong, I apologise.**

**Edit: Spotted a couple of typos. **

* * *

_Hotch is 8 years old._

"You're just a little piece of..." Hotch's father yelled, smacking Aaron in the face, "You don't take anything for granted, do you? You ungrateful..."

Aaron tried to wriggle away, tears streaming out of his eyes. He just wanted this all to stop, he just... he couldn't cope...

"You're crying, aren't you?" His father asked angrily, "You're weak, pathetic. You aren't strong at all, you don't deserve to be called my child!"

Aaron could see his mother standing in the kitchen, crying into her hands. But not trying to help him. Not even trying to stop the abuse.

He hated her. He hated him. He hated his life. He just wanted to get out of this.

When his father finally left him alone, instead going off to probably down another bottle of whiskey, Aaron ran up to his bedroom, and tried to stifle the tears. He had to be strong, emotionless, if he were to avoid the attentions of his father again.

* * *

_Hotch is now 9 years old._

Aaron sat by the window, waiting for his mother and father to come home with his newborn brother.

He'd seen, hugged, loved his brother when they'd first met in the hospital. It wasn't fair that he had to be born and brought up in _this_ household. What with an abusive, alcoholic father, and a distant mother, Sean wouldn't have a happy childhood.

Finally, his parents came in, holding Sean in their arms. Sean was taken upstairs, and Aaron followed, watching his parents put Sean into the cot by their bed. When they had left, Aaron sat by the cot.

"Hey there, little brother." Aaron smiled weakly, "I'm your big brother, Aaron. I promise that I will always protect you, keep you safe from our father's abuse. I don't want you to have the childhood I have had so far."

Sean smiled, gurgled happily, before streaching and falling asleep.

Aaron left the room, leaving his brother to dream. This might be his only oppertinuty to do so, before their father had a chance to abuse him.

* * *

_Hotch is now 13 years old._

Aaron sat in the corner of the bathroom, a knife by his side, blood trickling out of a cut in his shoulder.

This was the worst abuse he had suffered in his whole life. All because he didn't get an A in maths, his father seriously assaulted him, calling him pathetic, useless, saying that he was the spawn of Satan, just because he liked guys as well as girls.

He lifted up the knife, aiming to cut himself again, draw his blood, stain the earth with it. He just wanted to end it all. He just wanted to die.

Aaron twitched, as the door opened, and his mother walked in. She stood still, shocked at how far her son had fallen.

"Is it because of what your father said?" She whispered quietly, hugging her crying son, getting a small bit of blood on her shirt.

Aaron nodded, and she stood up.

"This is the last straw." She muttered angrily, "I have been weak too long, too scared about suffering more abuse under my husband that I didn't once lift a finger to help either of my children. I am leaving, hopefully with both of them. I'll also call the police, get the scumbag of a husband into a prison cell for the rest of his wretched life."

She left the bathroom, and walked downstairs, so that she could access the on,y phone in the whole house, (and Mr Hotchner arranged that deliberately, so that he could prevent matters such as this from ever occurring without him knowing.)

Aaron could hear shouts downstairs soon afterwards. She must have been caught. An argument had erupted, the years worth of hate and abuse bubbling forth like an angry volcano of emotion.

This was the last time Aaron ever heard his mother.

And this was the catalyst for his descent into darkness.

* * *

_Hotch is now 15 years old._

He'd been plotting for a while now.

Ever since his mother's disappearance. She been gone for two years now, and whilst the police had investigated, and suspected that Aaron's father have been involved, there was no hard evidence, and all leads eventually went cold.

Everyone gave up trying to find her,

And now his father had moved onto Sean. Beatings were almost weekly, if not daily, now in the household. Meanwhile, Aaron remained quiet, whilst plotting. Plotting his father's death, keeping his promise that he would protect his six year old brother.

He just had to wait until the summer holidays, just wait until they went out camping. Find a large stick, knock him out and then leave him for wild animals to eat. (Or die from the cold, whichever comes first)

Aaron had also worked out how to shift blame from both him and Sean- all he had to do was ring 911 and report his fathers disappearance in the woods. They'd hopefully find him dead, or not find him at all, and then they'd be free.

_Three months later_

It was all planned. Everything was ready. Bags were packed, and everyone was ready to go out on their annual holiday.

The car journey was mostly quiet, except for the occasional insult thrown at both children by their father.

And luckily for Aaron, his father had chosen to camp in densely forested area, Miles away from the nearest forms of human life.

It was the second night when Aaron carried out his plan. He had gone out with his father to collect wood for the fire.

"Son, you ain't carrying the logs right!" His father yelled angrily, "No matter how many times I have told you. You're pathetic!"

Aaron paused, before muttering, "I am holding the log right."

"No you're not!" His father snapped back, "How can you carry more logs if you hold logs as if they are clubs?"

"I never said that I was holding it in the correct position to carry a stack of them." Aaron replied, with a disturbing lack of emotion across his face.

His father's eyes widened, as Aaron edged closer and closer towards him, before wacking him on the head. He fell to the ground, and rolled down a steep slope into a ditch.

Part one complete.

Now, he just had to hide the truth from Sean.

Aaron walked around the forests surrounding the tent, spreading his footprints everywhere, which would help collaborate with his story. He discarded the log in a small stream, making sure that the evidence would be destroyed.

When he came back, he saw an American Black Bear sniffing around the ditch his father had fallen into. He then heard a couple of screams, and then silence. He looked at the bear, and saw that it was eating his father.

Perfect.

He couldn't be caught easily.

Five minutes later, Aaron approached the camp site, so a large stack of wood in his arms, where Sean was trying to sleep in the tent. He put the logs down, and then went into his brother's tent.

"Brother?" Sean asked, "What were those screams? Where's dad?"

Aaron pretended to be shocked, before stammering out a reply, "We went our own separate ways to find wood for the fire, he must have... We need to go out and look for him! Have you got your torch, Sean?"

Sean nodded, before they walked out into the forests, and after a couple of minutes of searching the forests, they found the ditch.

"Sean, you don't want to look down there. Dad is...dad is...dead" Aaron faked sobbing again, convincing his brother that he was sincere, and didn't know about their father's death.

After that, they both ran back to camp, and Aaron got the phone their father had brought, and they frantically dialled 911.

"911, what's your emergency?" The call operator asked.

"Dad...was...mauled by a bear. He's dead." Aaron acted devastated and shocked, whereas he was extremely happy and exited inside.

"Do you know where you are?" The woman asked.

"No, I don't." Aaron asked. That was the truth.

She then asked for him to hold the conversation, as they waited for the cops to trace the phone call back to where Aaron and Sean were, before going out and rescuing them.

And, half an hour later, that just happened. The cops came, investigated a bit, interviewed both Aaron and Sean, before investigating the crime scene.

Eventually, they came to a conclusion. Natural causes, not murder.

Aaron had got away with it.

* * *

_Hotch is now 22 years old._

This was the day that Hotch met Haley for the first time.

It was at a small coffee shop, just outside of Harvard University (which Hotch had got a full scholarship to in order to study law, along with support to look after Sean). Hotch often visited there, because the cups of coffee made there were out of this world.

As he entered the door and stood in the queue, he saw a new waitress serving behind the till, eager to help another customer.

He recognised her. Haley Brooks, studies English in the faculties of Arts and Sciences, and part of the local drama group. Really nice woman, extremely popular and generally all round hard worker.

In truth, he had the hots for her.

Finally he was at the front of the queue, and right next to Haley.

"Good morning sir, what would you like today?" Haley smiled.

Hotch smiled back, "May I have an espresso with cream and one sugar? Also, are you new here? This is the first time I have seen you serving here."

She nodded, "Yes, I joined last week. This is my first day behind the till. Now, your order comes to $2.30"

After he found the cash needed, he paid Haley and waited till she served him his espresso. He then sat by the nearest table, completely smitten by her.

A week later, he heard that the drama company was looking for people, to act in pirates of Penzance. He immediately auditioned, hoping to see Haley again.

This was how he found himself as fourth pirate to Haley's Mabel, acting in front of a large crowd.

* * *

_Hotch is now 26 years old._

He'd finished law school now, and was a junior prosecutor in the local courts. So far, several criminals, had been found guilty and had been imprisoned in jail- some for life terms, others to see the grim reaper.

It could have been him on trial. He could have been he one in jail. Luckily, for him, he'd never been caught by the cops, and was free to carry on with his life.

He was free to bring up his brother.

Sean was 15 now, and was studying at the local school. Hotch knew that his brother had a talent for cooking, and being a chef, but he wasn't keen on his brother going into that path. He wanted his little brother to be a lawyer, and have a much more secure future.

Hotch also knew of his brother's nightmares, about their father abusing them, the night of his death, the hell he had put them both through for much of their young lives. Hotch had told Sean to try and deal with it himself, be strong, and not allow their father to win from beyond the grave.

Sean, however, couldn't cope. He often cried himself to sleep, meaning that he had to take sleeping pills if he wanted a good night's sleep. He was withdrawn, sullen, not full of life like other 15 year old children. He couldn't, but he wanted to, forget everything.

The brothers were like two different people. Hotch at that age was full of anger, hatred at his father, and craved revenge like a drug addict craved the object of their desires. Sean, on the other hand, was depressed, and could never really trust anyone again.

* * *

_Hotch is now 34 years old._

It had been a big case. A female serial killer had taken the lives of 29 people from Quantico city. It had taken the efforts of the BAU, and the deaths of two local cop. In order to bring her to Justice.

He was required to give an interview. A local journalist was eager to gather the points of view from everyone involved in the case.

She'd interviewed the serial killer herself a day prior, because she wanted to know _why_. Why would a primary school teacher stab twenty nine people to death over a one month period. The reason was that she just wanted to kill. See what it was like. See the life leave their eyes, and get their blood all over her hands.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a knock on his door. It was the journalist. He walked over to the door, and opened it.

"Haley?" He gasped, hugging her, "I haven't seen you in 12 years! You look amazing!"

"Aaron! It is so nice to see you." Haley smiled back, "You look well. So, the case. What is your opinion on the case. It's obvious that Anastasia Green is the murderer of Thomas Brown, Abigal Clarke..."

Haley listed the name of the other victims, giving Hotch time to form his reply. When she'd finished, she looked at him, waiting for his answer.

"I will say that the evidence and the witnesses I have will place Anastasia Green in jail or onto death row, where she'll remain for the rest of her life. I will bring Justice to the families of the 29 victims she killed. After this, they can heal, and try and move on with their lives." Hotch replied sincerely.

When the interview had finished, Haley and Hotch reminisced about their times at college, as well as promising to see each other again more often.

"Also, before you go, do you want to go out for drinks tonight?" Hotch asked, and Haley nodded in reply.

* * *

_Hotch is now 37 years old._

"I, Aaron Samuel Hotchner, take you Haley Eve Brooks, to be my lawful,wedded wife." Hotch began, smiling happily. Today was his wedding day, the best day of his life, and the woman he loved stood in front of him.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward. For better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health." The vicar whispered in Hotch's ear.

Hotch repeated this, out loud, sealing his vow to protect, honour, cherish his wife. The woman he loved. He was going to treat her right. They would grow old, and die together, surrounded by their children and grandchildren.

It was then Haley's turn to give her vows. She gave her vows, just as sincerely and happily as Hotch had given his.

Behind him, Sean, his best man, smiled. Finally, his brother was getting married. Yeah, they hadn't talked much since he switched from a law to a cookery course at college, and after the drug disasters... Happily though, they had reestablisted contact two years ago, and they had been pretty close since. He was happy to be chosen not only as caterer during the reception, but also as the best man.

When the vows were given, and the rings exchanged, the priest pronounced the happy couple as husband and wife. Hotch kissed his new wife passionatly, to cheers and celebrations from everyone in the Church (bar the priest. He was too serious for that sort of stuff.)

Today was one of the greatest days of Hotch's life. It might not last, but he would always treasure this day for the rest of his life.

* * *

_Hotch is now 41 years old._

He quickly drove his wife to the hospital, trying to ignore the screams being emitted from his wife's mouth.

They had been trying for a child for nearly four years, and now, the blessing, the bundle of joy was going to be coming soon. They didn't know the gender. All they knew was that the child was healthy and the birth didn't need the C-section. They were excited to be meeting their son soon.

Hotch's face fell. Traffic. Traffic that appeared to go on for Miles. He swore. If they didn't get to the hospital soon, then their child would be born in the car journey.

Waiting was hell. His wife's screams continued to echo throughout the car. Calm. Breathe in. And out. Breathe in. And out.

Finally the traffic cleared, and Hotch drove at just under the speed limit, desperate to try and get to the hospital as soon as possible.

After five minutes, they were finally at the hospital, and Hotch opened the door and dashed to the hospital, and grabbed the nearest nurse.

"My wife is giving birth in the back of my car. Please can you send some assistance?" Hotch asked politely.

The nurse mumbled, "Sure" and ran down the corridor, finding a midwife. The two women followed Hotch back to his car, and immediately they took control of the situation, calming Haley down, and helping the baby to be born.

Four hours later, the umbilical cord was being cut, and Haley was holding her newborn son Jack in her arms. Hotch was smiling, looking down at his son, his eyes full of love.

"Hey there little man." Hotch whispered in his child's ear, "You know we both love you very much, and we will protect you as best as we are able to."

Jack gurgled happily, and reached out for his dad's arms. Hotch held his son for the first time, and was in a state of bliss.

* * *

_Hotch is now 44 years old._

Hotch knew that Haley was cheating on him. He worked hard for her, cherished her lots, but apparently he now wasn't good enough for her. She preferred her younger colleague in the Daily View, who was 'cute' and 'funny'.

It was sheer fluke that he discovered this. It was three months ago. He was sitting in the lounge as she went and had a shower, looking after Jack. The phone went off, and he picked it up, and looked at the text.

Sweetie, the date last night was really good. ;) You were good in bed. How about we go on another date in two weeks time, when Aaron isn't at home?- CR.

And, as a result, Hotch's mind turned back to the idea of murder. He was angry, furious that Haley had the cheek to cheat on him with a younger man. How long had this been going on for? Was his son even his biological child?

He kept quiet though. He didn't want to let on that he knew. Otherwise his plan may fail.

It was their anniversary soon, and they would be going to their favorite Japanese diner. Haley always ordered pufferfish there, as it was one of her favourite food there. He also knew that pufferfishes contained a high amount of a poison known as TTX, or tetrodotoxin.

He just had to get hold of the stuff, and wait for an opportunity when she went to the loos, and then he'd spike her food with the stuff. She would be dead several hours later. It would look like respiratory failure.

The day of their anniversary was nigh, and Hotch and Haley left Jack with their babysitter, before setting out to the diner. Hotch could feel the vial of TTX he'd brought from a rogue scientist (who worked with the mafia, but Hotch didn't know this at the time)

She sat down, and he sat opposite her, making sure that the CCTV cameras could not catch him doing the deed. They both pretended to be enjoying this, but neither of them were. She wanted to be with CR. He wanted to kill her.

They ordered their meals, and when the meals arrived five minutes later, Haley excused herself to go to the loos.

Hotch smiled, and waited to make sure no one was looking, before he poured it onto her meal.

When she came back, she apologised, kissing Hotch, before putting the poison into her mouth.

As the evening drew on, Haley became more ill, as the toxin spread throughout her body, paralysing her diaphragm. Hotch could see that she was becoming more ill, feigning concern and worry, as he asked if their was a doctor in the room.

He then dialled 911, pretending to panic as he said that his wife was dying in the Japanese diner. They said that they'd be coming soon.

By the time they arrived, Haley was dead. The chef who prepared the meal was sacked, because he hadn't prepared it correctly, and it was just passed off as an unfortunate accident.

Hotch was never blamed for her death.

* * *

_Hotch is now 47 years old._

It had been three years since his last murder. Since then, he'd had more and more cases to work on, and he threw himself into the work easily.

He hated his home life though, hated his son, who looked so much like his mother. He had began abusing him, taking everything out on him. He didn't even other to think on the similarities between himself and his son, he just noticed the differences.

A folder sat in front of him on his desk. The new case involved a young man called Spencer Reid, who had been abducted by a Mr Charles Hankle, who had a son who worked for the BAU...Tobias his name was.

Tobias was the first profiler to realise who the kidnapper was, and had rushed to the scene, finding Spencer dead on the floor. He'd shot his father, knocking him unconscious, and gave Spencer CPR, saving his life.

It would be an easy case. Spencer's testimony was solid, the evidence screamed that it was Charles, and the BAU would also be providing evidence. That man would go easily onto death row.

However, Hotch realised that he had romantic feelings for the victim, and judging by Reid's behaviour, he felt the same way.

Maybe they could start dating once the case was over with and Charles was in jail?

Hotch smiled, before grabbing a cup of coffee, drinking it as he went over the files. He had to plan his prosecution against Charles.

* * *

**And there we go! Hotch's backstory is now finished! Took me two weeks to write this!**

**Also edited the Premise, due to inconsistencies. There might be more, which I'll sort out over time. Thank you for reading, more will be on the way! :)**


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